Gemotions

The reunion was a disaster. It was set to be a joyous occasion, a time for reminiscing, a homecoming of sorts. But when he approached her, the woman who had been his confidante, the person who had known him better than anyone, she stared at him with blank eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice soft, “I don’t recall a thing.” His breath hitched.

He excused himself, his legs feeling like they might buckle at any moment. The room seemed to spin, the laughter of the other attendees turning into an incessant, echoing drone. He gripped the edge of a table, needing something to steady himself. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird.

He noticed that everything felt altered. It was like living in a hall of mirrors, each reflection distorted and unfamiliar. The happy chatter of the crowd grated on his nerves. He felt a desperate urge to flee, to escape the suffocating weight of this reality.